Owners' Tales
by Stratagem
Summary: Ever wondered about what kind of person would a Jellicle cat live with? This is a collection of short stories about those very people. Each story is about an owner of a Jellicle cat. Second Chapter: Magical Mr. Mistoffelees.
1. The Rum Tum Tugger

Disclaimer: I don't own Cats, although I do have a couple cats of my own. I think at least one of them is a Jellicle. :o)

A/N: I'm probably going to pretend that Cats is set in modern time for the sake of these short stories. Thanks for understanding that I'm not a history buff so I wouldn't be able to write in their original time period.

**Abigail Caudle: **

The Rum Tum Tugger

Abigail Caudle, Abby to her friends, grabbed her coffee cup off the table and headed back to her studio. With a flick of her fingers, she turned on the CD player that was sitting on a rickety table end. Mick Jagger of the Rolling Stones started wailing out of the speakers as Abby moved farther into her studio. She stepped carefully over a stack of art books and twirled to avoid bumping into her easels.

Abby had been planning on cleaning up for weeks now, but she couldn't seem to get around to it. She kept telling herself that she'd do it eventually, but so far the paint stains had stayed on the floor and her sketchbooks were still flopped open on the table in the middle of the room. Used coffee cups from last week stood on the windowsill like a row of well-trained, multi-colored soldiers.

The pieces of pottery on the floor underneath the windowsill reminded Abby that her stupid cat, the Rum Tum Tugger, had decided to wage war on her coffee soldiers. One soldier had not survived and now Abby was down one mug. She rolled her eyes. Damn that audacious tom.

Abby took a sip of her hot vanilla-flavored foreign coffee before setting the mug down on the edge of the table. Long black and brown cat hairs scattered away from it. Abby frowned; she knew she had at least swept up the cat hairs off the table.

"Tugger, I told you to stay out!" she said, not really caring if the cat heard her or not. The tom was usually gone, and he was never around whenever she wanted him there.

Sighing, she turned her attention to her easel. She had painted the background a dark green color so she was certain that this was some sort of forest scene. What kind of forest scene, she wasn't sure, but then again, she never was until the whole thing was finished.

Abby sat down at the stool next to the easel and picked up her palette. It was smeared with all sorts of colors but the main colors that covered it were light green, gold, gray and white. She was going to add some lighting to her painting; some gold light shining through the leaves would be beautiful.

Abby quickly became absorbed in the actions of painting. Her brush flew from the palette to the painting, dipping in one kind of paint and swirling it with another to make a different color. This was much more than Abby's hobby; this was her life's calling. She loved making something new out of something completely plain like the canvas she was painting on.

She was too absorbed in her artwork to react quickly enough when a ball of black, gold, and brown fur pounced onto her lap and then placed its big front paws right on her painting, completely ruining it.

"You bastard!" Abby shouted, pushing the cat off of her lap. The Rum Tum Tugger pranced mischievously around her feet, nimbly avoiding her vehement kicks. "You wait till I catch you!"

Abby lunged for the Main Coon only to have him dart away from her. He paused when he was just out of her reach and stared back at her with those teasing golden eyes; Abby was sure that he was laughing at her in his own way. Abby let out a growl and crawled forward to grab him. Her fingers brushed his soft fur for a moment before he jumped backwards and slipped behind a bunch of old canvases.

"I am going to skin you alive! I'm going to rip your skin right off your little body and stick it to a canvas," said Abby. She started picking up the canvases and moving them out of the way. "My newest piece of artwork. I'll call it an Ode to a Not-So-Favorite Cat, the despicable, horrid Rum Tum Tugger. You just wait!"

The Rum Tum Tugger meowed mockingly in reply.

"Ooo, you are so annoying!"

"I haven't even said anything yet."

Abby sat up quickly, nearly smacking the back of her head on the edge of her easel. She turned and saw Kevin standing in the doorway to her studio. A heavy blush came to her cheeks. Kevin was a man that she had been dating lately. They were currently in the stage where they didn't know whether or not they seriously were into each other. At age thirty-five and single, Abby found it a strange and annoying to be in this state yet again.

"Oh, Kevin, hey. I didn't even hear the door opened."

"It was unlocked. I knocked, but you didn't answer. Should I leave?" Kevin asked, motioning back towards the door to her flat. "It looks like you're a little busy."

"No, I was just…looking for something."

Abby climbed to her feet, brushing the paint chips and dust off of her blue jeans. She felt woefully shabby in her baggy sweatshirt and ripped jeans as she looked at Kevin. The actor was dressed in a spiffy black jacket over a cream turtleneck; his jeans did not have any holes in them.

"So, did you need something?" Abby asked. She started straightening the things on her work table, moving her brushes around and pushing paper towels to one corner. Why was her studio such a mess again? Oh, yeah. The Rum Tum Tugger liked it that way.

"No, nothing in particular. I was just in the neighborhood, and I wanted to stop by." He folded his arms over his chest and started to walk around her studio. "These are nice little pieces, Abby. I don't see why you don't sell more of them than you do."

"I don't like to part with them," she said, gathering a bunch of brushes in her hand. "Sorta like children, you know, pieces of me. Hard to let go of something like that." They certainly weren't little pieces to her, either.

"I suppose so…"

Abby felt something bump against her legs. The Rum Tum Tugger had come out of hiding to wrap himself around her ankles and yowl obnoxiously. She bent down to pick him up, but he moved away again. Should've known he wouldn't have allowed that.

"Oh, who's this?" asked Kevin, smiling down at the big Main Coon. "What a weird-looking cat. I've never seen one with fur like that. Here, kitty, kitty, kitty."

The Rum Tum Tugger gave him such a baleful, condescending look that Abby had to cover her mouth to keep from laughing. She certainly didn't think that Tugger was weird-looking but other people seemed to think differently.

"He doesn't like to be called kitty. He's sort of anything but a kitty," Abby said. She bent down and scratched Tugger right behind his ears. He leaned momentarily into her touch then moved away. He had such a flip-flopping nature. Abby spread her hand out towards Tugger. "This is the Rum Tum Tugger."

"That's a big name for a cat," said Kevin with an incredulous snort. "Where did you think that one up?"

Abby smiled and tapped her fingers against her mouth. "Lots of people have asked me that, and the truth is, I just don't know. It just came to my mind when he first came to live with me."

Abby easily remembered the day that Tugger had shown up at her house, in her kitchen no less, sitting on her table and eating the ham and cheese sandwich she had just made. She had tried chasing him away numerous times, but he seemed determined to live with her. At least having the Main Coon around helped alleviate her loneliness a little. "Tugger lives here part-time, or basically whenever he feels like it."

"Where does he live the other part of the time?" asked Kevin.

"I'm not sure." Abby shrugged her shoulders then smiled. "But wherever it is, he always comes back happy."

"Must be one of those restless, wandering toms." Kevin crouched down and reached out to touch Tugger. The cat hissed and batted at his hand with outstretched claws before darting behind Abby's legs. The Rum Tum Tugger, his fur standing straight up all over him, stood in between Abby's legs and glared up at Kevin. Kevin's eyebrows leapt up on his forehead. "Sort of a jerk, isn't he?"

"That's just the way he is," Abby said defensively. She nudged one of feet against the tom's side. The Rum Tum Tugger glanced up at her disapprovingly before stalking off into the living room, his tail held high in the air. Abby rolled her eyes and then smiled at Kevin. "I think he's just jealous."

"Wow." Kevin rubbed the back of his head and grinned. "I've never had a cat jealous of me before. Should I be proud?"

"I think so if the Rum Tum Tugger thinks you're a threat," teased Abby. She looked around her studio before turning her attention back to Kevin. "Um, I haven't made breakfast, but I do have some coffee, if you'd like a cup."

"I'd love some."

Abby and Kevin had a couple cups of coffee in her kitchen. Kevin started to go on and on about the play he was in at the moment; he was very excited about the whole thing. Abby tried to change the subject a couple times to any other topic besides Kevin's play, but he didn't really show any desire to talk about anything else. Abby spent most of the time nodding and saying "Mmhmm." All the while, Tugger sat on top of the fridge and glared down at Kevin with fierce gold eyes. Kevin glanced at him every now and then and even gave him a little wave. Abby could tell that the Rum Tum Tugger was not won over by the cutesy gesture, and Abby wasn't either.

"And then I told the director that of course I was going to do it that way at the performance, hadn't I just done it that way then? That man's impossible, Abby."

"That's terrible, Kevin, really, really terrible." Abby's gaze left him and traveled up to where the Rum Tum Tugger was sitting on the fridge. She saw the cat gather himself with his front paws right next to his back paws, his muscles bunching up and preparing for flight. Her blue eyes widened when she realized where he had aimed himself.

"TUGGER, NO!" she shouted, but it was too late. The Rum Tum Tugger landed right on top of Kevin, splashing the coffee in Kevin's hand everywhere. It covered Kevin's cream turtleneck and the Rum Tum Tugger's thick fur. As Kevin shouted and stood up, Tugger sank his claws into Kevin's jacket. Abby could have sworn that Tugger's yowl was more out of excitement and the prospect of victory than any sort of fear. Abby did not know whether to pull Tugger off of Kevin or shove Kevin away from Tugger.

"Get it off of me, get it off!" Kevin yelled, spinning in a circle. Abby covered her mouth to smother a laugh as Tugger jumped off of Kevin's jacket and landed on the table in front of her. Tugger looked up at her and then back to Kevin as to say, 'See, this is why you shouldn't date other men.'

Kevin pointed a hard finger towards the Rum Tum Tugger. "That cat's crazy! It needs to be put to sleep; it's a menace!"

"Oh, come on, Tugger didn't really mean to," said Abby. She reached over and scratched Tugger's back. He arched his spine to her touch and looked towards Kevin with those golden demon eyes. For once and maybe the last time, Abby was glad that he was her demon. "He's just a little too playful for his own good."

Kevin stared at the cat then back at Abby. "Yeah, well, I think I'm going to leave now." He went into the living room and grabbed his coat from where he had laid it across a chair before getting coffee. His nose scrunched up as the material passed near his face. It smelled terrible…just like cat piss.

The Rum Tum Tugger walked into the living room and sat down next to the flat's front door. Kevin could have sworn that the Main Coon was smirking at him. Kevin hurried to the door. "Um, I'll see you later, Abby."

"Much later," said Abby as she came to the kitchen doorway. She gave him the little finger wave that he had given Tugger. "Bye, Kevin." The door to the flat closed, and she was left alone again.

Well, not completely alone.

The Rum Tum Tugger looked up at Abby from his place next to the door. She was sure that if the Rum Tum Tugger could say anything to her right now it would be, "And that'll teach you to try to cheat on me right under my nose. I'm the only tom for you, Babe, and don't you forget it."


	2. Magical Mr Mistoffelees

Disclaimer: I don't own CATS; however, I do own their owners! Mwaha!

**Robin Smith:**

Magical Mr. Mistoffelees

Robin opened the door to her parents' house and trudged inside. She had come home from college for the weekend to house-sit for her parents. They were off chaperoning a school field trip to the country with her younger brother, Charlie. Robin had planned to have some of her high school friends over, but that was before she had caught this awful cold. She had probably gotten it from her roommate, Ashleigh; the blonde pysch major had been sneezing and coughing the whole week. With all thoughts of even minor socializing out of the question, Robin could only imagine getting a bottle of water and settling down on the couch to sleep off the cold.

She tossed her duffle bag onto the floor near the couch and walked into the kitchen. It was just as spotless as ever. Her mother never could handle a little dirt in her kitchen.

Robin noticed a piece of her mother's flowered stationary paper with her name on it resting on top of the fruit basket on the counter. She reached over to pick it up and unfolded it.

"_Dear Robin,_

_Hello, honey, it's good to have you home even though we're not there. There's some leftovers in the refrigerator, and I made a couple dinners for you. I put new sheets on your bed so I hope you sleep well and know that we're missing you all the time. We all wish you could be with us._

_Love you dearly,_

_Mom, Da, and Charlie _

_(Charlie says "Maybe.")_

_PS-We haven't been able to find Oreo for the past couple of days. Charlie thinks he's run off for good this time, but your father and I think he's just missing you. Do give a call out for him, won't you?"_

"Maybe if you didn't insist on naming him after a commercialized cookie, he would listen to you," Robin grumbled. She pushed her thin, black-rimmed glasses farther up on her nose and put the paper down on the counter.

"Mistoffelees, they're gone now," she said as if she were talking to a friend who was right beside her instead of thin air. "You can come out."

In the back of her head, she could imagine her brother's screeching ten-year-old voice, _"His name isn't Mistoffelees! It's Oreo!"_

Robin was in love with the name Mistoffelees, but the rest of her family hated it vehemently. Her mother seemed to think it was devilish, which Robin thought described Misto's mischievous side perfectly. When the family had adopted Mistoffelees, they had outvoted her in favor of the most horrible of names for the adorable black and white tom: Oreo. Heaven knew that Mistoffelees was not an Oreo at all.

Robin felt something bump up against her right leg and nuzzle her ankle lovingly. The tom cat twined himself in and out of her legs and meowed in welcome. Robin smiled and bent down to rub the top of Mistoffelees' head. "Hey, Misto, how're you?"

Mistoffelees looked up at her with his dark, nearly black eyes as if to say, "Oh, thank God, you're home."

"My family isn't that bad," said Robin. Mistoffelees only stared at her. "Okay, well, they're not that bad besides Charlie."

Mistoffelees bumped his head against the back of her hand insistently, and Robin laughed. The laugh quickly turned into a cough, and she covered her mouth with her hand. Mistoffelees put her front paws on her knee and peered at her, his head cocked to one side. Robin waved him away.

"It's just a cold. I'm fine, no worries," she said. Mistoffelees kneaded his paws against her knee; he obviously was not convinced.

Robin stood up and moved towards the refrigerator. She wasn't really hungry but she thought some water or Coke would do her good. When she opened the refrigerator, the jug of orange juice nearly fell on top of her. She barely caught it before it hit the ground. She raised an eyebrow and closed the fridge door. "Being tricky again, Misto? I suppose orange juice is okay…"

She turned around and was surprised to see that her favorite glass, the one with a picture of Disney's Aristocats stamped onto it, was sitting on the counter. Robin looked from the jug of orange juice to the glass to the black and white tom that was sitting beside the glass.

"Don't think I didn't notice the fur change," Robin said, pointing a finger at Mistoffelees before pouring the orange juice into the glass. "I'm not as dense as you think I am."

Mistoffelees gave a self-satisfied meow and twitched his now completely black tail back and forth. Robin sighed and scratched the little tom underneath his chin. He purred and leaned against her hand.

Robin's family was under the impression that their 'Oreo' was a black cat with a white chest, white face, three white socks, and a patch of white on the tip of his tail who often went missing. They thought that the other cat that roamed around the house, the black tuxedo cat with fur that looked like someone had dumped glitter on it, was someone else's cat entirely, perhaps even a stray. Robin's father had once suggested they send the tuxedo tom to the pound, but Robin had stopped them. She was the only one in the family who knew Mistoffelees' secret.

* * *

It had been two years since she had found Mistoffelees. He had been just a kitten, barely six-weeks-old. It was raining when she had left the library that afternoon. When heading out the entrance, she spotted what she thought was a crumpled black hat laying next to the door. She had been about to ignore it when the hat gave the most pathetic little mew and stretched its legs. The kitten had looked up at her with confused, miserable eyes as if to say, "How did I get here?"

Robin swiped up the black tuxedo kitten and held him close. She had known that he wouldn't be able to stay in the library and the librarians were just mean enough to call the pound on him. Robin had taken the kitten home; by the time she got there, white patches had appeared on three of his legs and his tail. She had been shocked by the odd change in fur color, but she had ignored it that time. Her family had let her adopt Mistoffelees and life returned to normal.

However, as Mistoffelees grew older, Robin started to notice that a tuxedo tom was hanging around the house more often. The tom looked exactly like her Mistoffelees had the first she had seen him. Somehow she knew that the tuxedo tom _was_ Mistoffelees; however, she wasn't entirely certain until she saw the change for herself.

Robin had been home alone when the front door started jiggling. It was hours before her family was supposed to be home and there had been a series of break-ins in a nearby neighborhood, so she had been certain that it was some sort of thief trying to get in. Robin had scooped up Misto and headed towards the phone, but her affectionate little cat had other plans.

Mistoffelees had slipped out of her arms, and once on the ground, he went through a rapid change. A ripple went over him and his white fur darkened almost instantly to black. Starlight seemed to collect in his fur, and when he looked up at Robin, his eyes were the most perfect silver. Those oddly-colored eyes seemed to be pleading for her confidence and her silence; Robin kept her mouth shut. When the change was complete, Mistoffelees padded off down the hallway towards the front door. Robin heard what sounded like a series of small explosions and a human yelp. After a few minutes, Mistoffelees trotted back to her, his white patches back in place, and had wrapped himself around her legs. Robin had known since that day that her cat was not an ordinary one.

* * *

"I think I'm going to go take a nap," said Robin, setting down her glass on the kitchen counter. Mistoffelees meowed and stood up. He walked along the very edge of the counter until he was right underneath her. He looked up at her with insistent black eyes; he had switched back to his white patched coat while she was drinking her juice.

Robin sighed and picked Mistoffelees up from the countertop. He snuggled into her arms and bumped his head against her chest, demanding attention. "You know, you can be a real baby sometimes."

The look he gave her seemed to say, "Not really. You're the one who needs looking after."

Robin walked into the living room and set Mistoffelees down on the foot rest beside her father's favorite chair. The black and white tom curled up where she had put him but kept his eyes locked on her as if he was afraid she was going to go away again. Robin sighed and sat down on the couch. She felt a little better than she had when she had been driving down here, but she still wanted to sleep. She pulled the quilt off the back of the couch and draped it over herself. Sighing, she reached over and tugged the couch pillow closer. After a while, she drifted off asleep.

Robin woke up a couple hours later to Mistoffelees standing on her shoulder, kneading his paws against her and meowing. She swatted lazily at him and turned over, forcing him to scramble to reposition himself. As Mistoffelees kept yowling, Robin pulled her pillow over her head and straightened her glasses. "Misto, I have a headache. You are _not_helping."

Mistoffelees jumped off on her and onto the coffee table. He nudged a small plastic bottle towards the edge of the table and looked at her expectantly.

"What's that?" Robin asked, propping herself up on her elbows. Her eyes raced across the label and she smirked. "Advil? Very clever, Misto, but really, I'm fine. I just need some more sleep." She rolled over and pressed her face into the cloth on the back of the couch.

"Ooof!" Misto had jumped onto her chest. She let out a series of coughs and pushed him off. "Dang it, cat, okay. I'll take the stupid pills, just to make you happy." She picked up the Advil bottle and knocked out a couple of blue pills. She set the bottle down and grabbed the glass of water that was sitting next to the bottle. She popped the pills into her mouth and took a gulp of the water to wash them down.

Finished, Robin laid back down on the couch and glared at Mistoffelees. The black and white tom was laying on the coffee table, his tale curled possessively around one of her little brother's books. She smirked when she read the title; _Harry Potter And The Order of the Phoenix_, how fitting for her tricky little tom.

"Mistoffelees?" she said softly, lifting her head from the pillow. He looked over at her, his eyes soft and affectionate. "Thank you."

He picked himself up and jumped over onto the couch. He curled up beside her and gave a deep, contented purr. Robin smiled and scratched him underneath his chin before falling back asleep.

A/N: I apologize for having Robin refer to Mistoffelees only as Mistoffelees. My reasoning for this is that she found him when he was in his Misto-black-fur state so she would have thought of him as Mistoffelees. I really do love both Mistoffelees and Quaxo though. Also, if anyone's wondering, I feel that the owners know the Jellicles' names because the Jellicles want them to. I don't really know how this works, but you know how when you name something because it feels like it should have that name, even if it sounds funny? That's what this is like.


End file.
